


Do You Feel It?

by mothmanaintshit



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura/Nyma, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Best Friends, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hunk/Shay - Freeform, Internalized Transphobia, M/M, POV Alternating, Past Rolo/Keith, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Trans Lance (Voltron), Transphobia, friends are seriously just the best when ur going through this shit, mlm author, tags will be added as needed, there are also other background ships, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-18 12:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8161714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanaintshit/pseuds/mothmanaintshit
Summary: Keith groaned as he reached behind him, hitting his alarm clock a couple times, knocking over his bottle of water and lamp and one of his medication bottles, before grasping onto his cellphone. He accepted the call, mumbling against the receiver as he rested the screen against his cheek. There was no sound from the other line. It woke Keith up a bit, enough to actually speak, “Hey? Lance?”There was a small sound, a nearly silent sniffle, before a choked sob sounded and— “Keith…”[Or: Lance is lost and his friends are the best people in the entire galaxy.]





	1. 3 AM

**Author's Note:**

> So, like... this fic is really personal (and it's also a way for me to vent) so... yeah. Fic inspired by personal events and just... yeah. This has no update schedule and hopefully the writing will get better as I progress into the story cuz I'm just... not good at writing right now. Anyways, enjoy.

Of course it would be after a long and taxing day of both school and work, and during a night where he actually was able to sleep, that Lance would call him at 3 AM. Keith knew who it was just by the annoying ringtone – Nyan Cat, because _of course_ – and knew that this was probably just another “do you think colors have feelings?” conversations that had been known to happen between them during this time of night. It was usual during this time in the semester as well. Right after cramming for midterms, where students were overly exhausted but still unable to get their sleeping back on schedule after late night study sessions. 

Keith couldn’t really blame Lance for calling this late though. He knew that Keith rarely slept, and understood on the nights he didn’t pick up he was probably knocked out – which would have been one of those nights of he remembered to turn his phone on vibrate.

Keith groaned as he reached behind him, hitting his alarm clock a couple times, knocking over his bottle of water and lamp and one of his medication bottles, before grasping onto his cellphone. He accepted the call, mumbling against the receiver as he rested the screen against his cheek. There was no sound from the other line. It woke Keith up a bit, enough to actually speak, “Hey? Lance?”

There was a small sound, a nearly silent sniffle, before a choked sob sounded and— “ _Keith_ …” 

He sure as hell was awake now, already jumping out of bed and throwing on a shirt and a pair of basketball shorts that was sitting on his desk chair. He was at his door, hand hovering over his keychain on the hook, when he asked, “Be there in a minute?”

“ _Y_ … _yeah_ …” 

Keith nodded and hummed before Lance ended the call. He grabbed his keys and was out the door, locking it swiftly behind him before he went up the three flights of stairs that lead to Lance’s apartment. He tried Lance’s door, thankful for once of it behind left unlocked, before making his way inside and locking the door behind him. He stumbled in the darkness – over the row boat the college student used for furniture and the lawn chair – as he made his way into the hallway that lead to his friend’s room.

“Lance?” He spoke quietly, as he walked through the open door. He heard the man grunt from where he lay the bed. Keith made his way into the room, tripping – again – on clothes and shoes and text books. The window over the headboard let in some light from the streetlights. Keith was able to take in Lance as he made his way further into the room. And his blood boiled.

The man's left eye was swelled shut, purple blooming over a good portion of his face. Dried blood crusted over his busted bottom lip. His cheeks were wet with fresh tears and a portion of his shirt was torn off his shoulder.

Before Keith could even get his thoughts together – let alone speak – Lance cut through the silence. 

“Just… lay here. Please.” Keith had never heard Lance’s voice so… _dead_. So unlike _Lance_. Anger and confusion swirled in his head— Who did this? Why did they do this? How could they do this? Why isn’t Lance doing anything about it? Did Lance go to the Police?

Lance took a deep breath when Keith didn’t move closer to the bed, his voice coming out monotone and tired and weak, “I’m fine. I just… I need you here. _Please_.”

Finally, he moved, crawling into the empty space next to the young adult and carefully situating himself at his friend’s side. He kept his eyes on Lance, watching his friend lick at his open lip, watching the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed when he took a shaky breath, watch as a fresh wave of tears fell from his bloodshot eye. He turned his head, unable to look at Lance without anger blooming in his chest, and stared up at the ceiling fan. He watched it rotate slowly, until a set of cobalt blue eyes obstructed his vision – and _not_ the pair of blue eyes he wanted to see.

He narrowed his eyes up at Blue – Lance’s rescue – as the cat sat on his chest, tail flicking lazily against his neck. He lightly patted the cat’s back, lips twitching into a small smile as Blue arched her back as he pets her coat. The cat fell forward onto Keith’s chest, twisting onto her back and nuzzling her head under Keith’s chin. Keith felt Blue’s purr against his palm and chest than heard it.

Keith spent the next half hour petting Blue and counting the amount of times the fan went around until Lance broke the silence.

Lance hesitated for only a moment, “I… I was forced to come out to my parents. Everyone’s…” Lance cleared his throat, “Everyone’s in town for the weekend and they… wanted to surprised me since I missed the past couple get-togethers and… and I didn’t think I’d be coming out so… soon. I thought I’d at least be able to wait until graduation.”

Blue moved off Keith’s chest, moving onto her owners and curling onto his chest. Keith tracked the cat’s movement until his eyes landed on Lance, seeing his hand – bruised, a split knuckle – come up to rest on the cat’s back, lightly rubbing his thumb along her spine.

“Besides my father helping with a new make-over, he’s, uh… he’s cutting me off.” Lance sighed out before he shut his eyes. “Fuck, Keith… I was so close to graduation— so _fuckin’_ close. And then I wouldn’t even care because I’d have a degree and a possible future and… and a… a _life_.” Lance choked out the last bit, the hand that wasn’t petting the feline coming up to cover his mouth and hide his upcoming sobs.

Keith frowned, turning onto his side towards Lance.

“I— I don’t know… what I’m gonna do, Keith.” Lance hiccupped, mumbling against his palm as another wave of tears spilt from his eyes. “I’m _screwed_. My dad pays for _everything_ and I… I just… _Fuck_.” 

“We’ll figure this out, Lance.” Keith spoke softly but firmly, placing his hand on Lance’s bicep and squeezing. “You aren’t alone in this. You have Hunk and Pidge and Shiro a— and me. And… and _fuck_ your family, dude. They’re assholes and you deserve better and…” 

 _And why do I have to suck at this?_ Keith cursed at himself.

Lance snorted and furiously rubbed at his good eye, turning his head away from Keith. Blue’s purr was finally loud enough to hear throughout the room, tired blue eyes glance between the two men before shutting.

“Look, Lance,” Keith sighed, moving to lay on his back again, “we’ll figure out a way for you to finish up the next couple of semester. There’s always loans and grants, your scholarship will help out a lot and… and you can stay with me? Or Hunk or Pidge—”

“Pidge is allergic to Blue. Hunk is moving in with Shay.” Lance mumbled tiredly before turning his head to look at Keith, “And your mullet _offends_ me so you’re off the table.” 

Keith rolled his eyes with a soft snort, “Blue likes it.”

Lance sighed, “She like _you_ , not the mullet.”

“Either way, she has good taste.” Keith shrugged with a small smile, hand reaching out for the sleeping feline and lightly scratching behind her ear. Lance started to laugh before cursing, his lip wound opening and a small trail of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He groaned and lightly nudged Blue off of him, forcing himself into a seated position as he ran his hands through his hair. He wiped the blood off with the edge of his shirt, frowning. Keith pushed himself up next to Lance, Blue curling behind them on the pillows.

“For right now,” Keith started as he pushed himself up, “let me take care of your wounds—”

“Leave ‘em.” Lance sighed, falling back against the bed. He draped an arm over his eyes. “I des—”

“ _You_ _do **not**_.” Keith cut Lance off, knowing what the next words that would come out of his friend’s mouth were. “I don’t know what happened, Lance. I don’t know what was said or what was done, but _nothing_ deserves what you had to go through.”

Lance stayed silent, allowing Keith to head to the bathroom to pull the First Aid Kit from under the sink. Lance continued to stay silent as Keith tended to his lip and eye, looked over his shoulder and frowning when he saw that Lance’s binder was also torn. Keith swallowed his anger and stood once he finished tending to Lance’s wounds. He went over to the man’s dresser and pulled out one of his graphic tee-shirts and his worn-down BB-8 PJ pants. He tossed them onto the bed next to Lance.

“Change.” He nodded towards the clothes before turning towards the door. “I’m gonna get some water.”

He saw Lance nod before he left the room, turning on the hallway light and kitchen light as he entered the areas. He pulled out his phone as he went to Lance’s fridge, shooting off a quick text to his friends before grabbing two bottles of water. 

 **Group Text to: Hunk, Pidge, Shiro [4:15 AM]** _Come by my place at noon._  
****Group Text to: Hunk, Pidge, Shiro [4:15 AM]**** _It’s important._

He came back in the room a few minutes later to Lance sitting cross legged on the left side of the bed, cradling a pillow against his chest. Keith set a bottle on the nightstand next to Lance.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch—”

“No. I— I mean, stay.” Lance spoke quickly before burying his face in the pillow, pointing to the right side of the bed. “ _Here_.” 

Keith furrowed his brows, glancing between the vacant area and Lance. Lance never really _slept_ with other people. Usually when he slept over other’s places, he’d get a room with a door instead of the couch or the floor where the others crashed. Lance had told him that he didn’t like the possibility of others seeing him without his binder, didn’t want them to see him _that_ way.

“Are you sure?” Keith asked, his grip tightening around his bottle. “Lance, I don’t—”

“’ts fine.” Lance’s voice was muffled by the pillow. He quickly picked his head up, eyes wide, “B— but if you don’t want to, that’s fine! I get it— it’s fine!” 

Keith lightly flicked his friend’s forehead with a rare smile. He shook his head as Lance pushed his hand away with a small pout. He headed around the bed, Lance quickly going under the covers as Keith occupied himself with pulling his phone and keys from his pocket and setting them on the desk at the end of Lance’s bed. He crawled onto the bed once he knew Lance was under the covers and deposited himself next to the wall. Blue lay between their heads, content on her pillow.

“G’night, Lance.” Keith yawned, turning onto his stomach and shoving his hands under his pillow. He turned his head to Lance, who was in the same position as him but under the blanket. Keith smiled at his friend, ignoring that Lance probably couldn’t even see him through his left eye. 

“Night, mullet.” Lance replied with a tired smile, confirming that he could see Keith. Blue let out a small growl, picking her head up to look pointedly at Lance.

Lance gasped and sputtered, “ _Betrayal_!” 

Keith muffled his laugh with the pillow.

Times like these, he really liked that cat. 

He stayed face down for a while, until he struggled to breath, and turned his head back towards Lance. Lance was still awake; his left hand had come out from under the pillow to pet Blue. Lance’s eyes drooped, the man straining to stay awake any longer.

“Sleep, dude.” Keith mumbled tiredly, stifling a yawn against the pillow once again.

“Yeah, yeah. I will.” Lance replied tiredly, letting his eyes drift close and moving his hand back under his pillow. “But, Keith… thanks. For this. I… yeah.”


	2. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Need some domestic fluff? Here's some domestic fluff.
> 
> Blue is an alien, Keith's conspiracy theories lay in her, and Lance's bedhead -- hot DAMN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like... holy crow ???? I can't believe you guys!!! The comments are just awesome and all the kudos'??? Like??? Thank??? I'm not really good with talking to people because of my anxiety, so I'm sorry that I'm not really replying to the comments, but know that im reading every single one and freaking out about them. You all are awesome and just... thank you??? seriously???

Keith turned over in his bed, arm dipping over the edge of the bed as he stuffed his face atop his pillow. Sunlight streamed through the window above him, landing perfectly on the back of his head to his hips. Keith groaned lowly, feeling the smoldering California sun heat up his already sun-kissed back. It had been one week since Lance was forced to come out to his family. His face was healing nicely, he was settling into his and Keith’s apartment nicely, the boat – which Keith _refused_ to allow into his apartment – sat next to Keith’s bed in the living room (which was now his bedroom). Shiro, Hunk, Pidge, Allura and Matt came over last weekend to help move Lance’s stuff in and hang out afterwards. Keith had to occupy Lance during most of the time, his blue-eyed roommate kept taking back Keith’s invitation of moving in and thus blocking the doorway to either his or Keith’s apartment. Keith had to pull him out to the beach a few blocks away with the promise of extreme cheese pizza and as many chocolate malt milkshakes as he wants. He also promised to buy Blue a new scratching post – which he did. He bought that damn cat a fucking _palace_ , and yet the Korat decided to marked her home as Keith’s bed.

He didn’t mind the first couple of days. Blue was a very affectionate cat, and Blue really did like him (which offended Lance beyond belief when he would wake up and find his cat snuggling up against his roommate). He’d woken up on the first morning after Lance’s move in from a loud shriek of “ _Betrayal_!” from the man. Blue decided to also react and scratch up Keith’s back as she scurried off of the bed.

Lance took care of the scratches Keith couldn’t reach. Nearly a week later and he was still healing. That didn’t stop Blue from following the sunrise and moving inch back inch until she was sprawled out on his back, basking in the wonderful heat.

“Ya know,” Keith started with a sigh, feeling the familiar weight of the cat settle on his back, “I didn’t ask for this.”

He felt Blue’s cold nose on his back, nuzzling against one of his many scratches. It wasn’t as comforting as Blue probably assumed… And here comes the purring.

“Alright.” Keith sighed, again, and turned over. Blue hopped off but was quick to jump back onto Keith’s stomach. Keith pursed his lips, one hand coming up and running down the length of Blue’s back as the other rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Blue purred and arched into Keith’s touch. “Shouldn’t you be; you know… comforting _Lance_?”

Blue blinked at him, her purr dwindling as she tilted her head at him.

Keith frowned, “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m saying. You’re too smart for a cat… I was positive it was you doing Lance’s homework last semester.”

Blue’s eyes shut and she kneaded her front paws against his stomach, basking in the praise, with her own stupidly adorable cat smile.

“ _Exactly_.” Keith let out a breath, shutting his eyes and relaxing against his pillow. Blue fell onto her side, cradled between Keith’s arm and chest. “…I didn’t ask for this, Blue.”

 _Too bad_ , he could practically hear her mock back as her tail swatted at his hip.

“She loves her papa.”

Keith cracked his eye open to see Lance leaning against the hallway opening with his arms crossed and a tired smile on his face. Lance had massive bedhead and it took all of Keith’s power not to laugh. Lance never had bedhead. _Ever_. He claimed he woke up looking like perfection. And, honestly, he kinda did. Even with bags under his eyes, tried spit on the corner of his mouth and hair that stuck up in every direction, it was perfectly Lance.

“Why isn’t she with him th— _achk_!?” Keith jerked away from Blue, falling off the bed and crashing his shoulder against the row boat. He let out a string of curses and sat up to glare at the cat, who had taken the advantage of clawing him out of bed and taking his spot. 

Lance snorted, hiding his laugh behind his hand as he made his way to the kitchen. “Dude, you’re her father just as much as I am.” 

Keith growled and bared his blunt teeth at the Korat in an attempt to get his spot back. He failed. Blue blinked tiredly at him and booped him on the nose. Keith kissed her toe beans before hoisting himself up. He took at the alarm clock at the foot of his bed, 8:02 AM, and frowned. 

“You’re up early.” Keith walked over the row boat and towards the kitchen, watching Lance go about making coffee while also pulling out boxes ingredients he didn’t know he owned. It must have come from Lance’s apartment.

“And you’re up late.” Lance commented back over his shoulder, running a hand through his hair. Lance wasn’t wrong. Keith was usually heading to the gym at 6 AM and getting back at 8 AM. Keith hummed as he pulled himself onto the kitchen counter next to the coffee machine, picking up an apple from the bowl of fruit at his side. Before he could bite into the juicy fruit, Lance plucked it from his hand and threw a shirt on his head.

“I’m making breakfast.” He said simply, placing the apple back in the bowl and starting up the coffee pot. “And put on a damn shirt, mullet. Be civilized.”

“Why?” Keith frowned and pulled the shirt over his head, letting it hang around his neck as he grabbed the apple again, quickly sinking his teeth into it before Lance could pull it away again.

Lance scowled, hand hovering in the air between them. Keith smirked around the apple, holding the fruit between his teeth as he pulled the shirt the rest of the way on.

“Are you really gonna look a gift horse in the mouth?” Lance asked, grabbing the apple and letting Keith take the last bite before setting it down on the counter. 

“ _Yeash_.” Keith spoke around the apple, furrowing his brows. He swallowed and coughed, clearing his throat, “Said horse has been known to cause food poisoning. Example, Pidge’s birthday two years ago. Chicken wings that tasted like hot dogs.”

Lance cringed as he pulled out a large metallic bowl. “O— okay, yeah. That was my bad. But one, that was _two years ago_. Two, that was _chicken_. Three, I’m making you _buttermilk pancakes_. It’s impossible to poison buttermilk pancakes.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Keith picked up the apple and spun it between his palms, looking down with a confused expression, “ _Why_?”

Lance avoided Keith’s intense gaze, busying himself with breaking eggs and mixing flour and sugar. “You… you’ve done a lot for me, man. I don’t know how to do a proper, uh… ‘thank you’ so…”

“I haven’t done anything a decent human being wouldn’t do.” Keith mumbled, cheek lightly flushing. He caught Blue’s eye across the room. The cat sitting elegantly at the edge of the bed, it’s tail flicking lazily off the edge. She was watching both men with interest, which honestly scared Keith.

He was positive Blue was part human… or alien. She was sent from space, rescued by Lance and was learning about human culture and how to destroy them.

Keith’s breath hitched as Blue jumped off his bed and headed towards the kitchen. Not a moment later, Blue hopped onto the counter next to Keith. Blue eyes staring indifferently up at him.

 _The truth is out there_ , Keith started, eyes wide and hands gripping the fruit tightly, _or in here_.

“I beg to differ.” Lance snorted and startled Keith, “I thought my family were decent human beings until middle school.”

Keith swallowed and hummed, taking another bite of his apple to occupy his mouth from spewing venom about Lance’s family and to occupy his mind from thinking anymore about Blue being an alien.

Keith grit his teeth together, nails digging into the apple. Blue rested her head on his thigh and huffed, an almost annoyed look on her usually blank face.

 _Same_ , Keith thought before freezing. He met Blue’s eye and decided to ignore the way she looked _through_ him.

A cat shouldn’t be equally creepy and adorable. It’s madness.

“Look, just… take the buttermilk pancakes, dude.” Lance mumbled, stirring the batter with a red face. “Don’t make this more embarrassing.”

“O— okay, yeah, totally. Definitely.” Keith nodded and bit into his apple, averting his eyes from his roommate. Lance let out a breath, a soft smile peeking out from over his shoulder as he glanced at Keith.

Blue meowed softly before sneezing on Keith.

“Attractive.” Keith frowned down at the snot Blue shot on his pants before glancing at her. She jumped off the counter and onto the one across and faced away from him, tail hanging off the edge.

“I think I just pissed off the princess.”

“Ehh.” Lance shrugged and came up next to Blue, bending and planting a wet kiss between her ears. “She’ll get over it.”

Keith rolled his eyes and took another bite of the apple before pushing himself off the counter. “I’m gonna take a quick shower. How, uh… I mean, unless you… _want_ my help?”

“Have you ever cooked pancakes?” Lance raised a brow at him as he set the metallic bowl back on the counter. Blue glanced over at Keith as well. 

“Uh, _no_?” Keith ran a hand through his hair as he took another bite of the apple, tossing it in the trash afterwards. Lance dipped his finger in the batter and flicked it at Keith, some landing in his hair and his neck. He licked the batter that landed on his lips and tried to get the speckle that landed on his nose. Cross-eyed and with his tongue sticking out,.

“G— go shower.” Lance coughed, “Y— your, uh… greasy, stiff mullet is rubbing off on me.” 

Keith whistled lowly, wiping some of the batter off his shirt, “So, you came out like this deliberately?”

“Came out like— like _what_ deliberately?” Lance’s furrowed his brows, looking back at Keith as he started backing out of the kitchen.

“Nothing, Lance. But, I gotta say,” Keith smirked and turned, “you’re rockin’ that _bedhead_ look.”

Lance’s squeak was priceless. 


	3. I Didn’t Ask for This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another discussion about colors at 3 AM, Red apparently broods, parents are assholes and klance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title on point. Shit gets depressing. Langst. But also, Lappy. Klappy? Jfc Depressing Lance but Happy Klance :3c Happy Klance to sooth the soul (lmao jk, klangst)

Lance pulled the fluffy pillow under his chin as he scrolled through the most recent messages from his father. Even though his father had made it very clear that he wanted nothing more to do with him, he felt the need to report every single family member’s reaction to his “current crisis”. The one people who haven’t been told – _yet_ , Lance had to keep reminding himself – were the family members back in Cuba. It was hard to get ahold of them sometimes and Lance couldn’t have been more grateful. He couldn’t even imagine what his younger siblings would say, being raised to believe that everything that wasn’t normal was an abomination. He was afraid that his parents would crack down on the twins, reiterate everything their “anti-everything pastor” believed in. 

He really hoped not. 

 _Fuck_.

He was so _damaged_ when he moved away to college. It took him two years to even come out to his friends. And even now, a year later, he was still unlearning all the hurtful and negative shit his family trained him to believe. 

He prayed that the twins would know better. They had more than he had growing up. More resources, more accepting schools and people. Already at the age of nine and the twins knew what was going on in the world. They were smart for their age, already knew that Trump was “a scary man” and that SNL is losing its potential.

They were smart. They were gonna make it.

 _They better_ , Lance thought sourly, refusing to allow the possibility of his younger siblings to turn on him. His parents, he could handle. His extended family, he could handle. His twenty-seven-year-old brother, he could handle. The twins? That would surely _crush_ him.

Lance frowned as his phone buzzed between his fingers. Another new text. He saw the words ‘padre’ and ‘abuela’ and made the decision to turn his phone off until he felt mentally capable of reading whatever text his father sent him without throwing the damn thing across the room. He watched as his only light source faded, leaving him to bask in the moonlight that barely made it past Keith’s bedroom window. Lance tilted his head down, stuffing his face against the pillow and tossing his cell behind him, no longer caring if another crack appeared on it’s already cracked screen. He’d dropped that phone more times than he’s had a significant other.

There was a light tapping on his door, following by a barely audible, “ _Lance_?”

 _Keith_.

At the thought of his roommate – who was honestly just one of his best friends by now – he couldn’t help the childish smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

Keith has been… _something_ since he officially moved in two weeks ago. Hell, they practically lived together before Lance was forced to move. Since he came out, things had begun to calm around the two. Yes, they still bickered and fought and childishly egged each other on. But, one, that was them and two, there was no malice behind their words. And, hell, that was what Lance had hoped for. He didn’t want things to change between his friends – the first real group of friends he’d ever felt this comfortable and safe around. He was terrified of the endless possibilities of one of them treating him differently, even though Pidge was there.

There was a voice in the back of Lance’s mind always confirming his doubts.

_They’ll think you’re a freak._

_You didn’t know since you were young so you aren’t trans._

_You aren’t enough. You’ll never be enough._

_They’re going to laugh. They’ll never want to see you again._

_Disgusting. Abomination. Unnatural._  

But as he sat around with his friends on night at Shiro and Matt’s apartment, eating horrible, cheap Chinese take-out and poking his friends with chopsticks and starting a small food fight with those weird pea pods, he just… he knew. And he just blurted it out. Red faced and ready to bolt with the silence that came, he couldn’t move because he had suddenly been tossed to the ground and proceeded to be pounced on.

He never laughed or cried that much before. He felt like he was on cloud nine for weeks.

“I’s open.” He mumbled against the pillow, drawn back to the real world as Blue’s weight settled between his shins. The door opened a few seconds later, Keith cautiously sticking his head through the doorframe. Lance turned his head to the side, peering at Keith before grunting and smothering himself back into the pillow. 

“Tak’a seat, Keef.” Lance’s voice was muffled against the pillow, but Keith got the message. The door lightly clicked shut and soon Lance felt the bed dip to his left, Keith nearly collapsing against Lance’s mattress the second he kneeled atop it. The two laid in silence, their heads turned towards each other, eyes never leaving the others until Blue decided she wanted in on the eye action and laid between Keith and Lance’s faces. The two chuckled and Keith picked up the Korat Princess, twisting onto his back and depositing the feline onto his stomach. Keith had learned to wear a shirt to sleep now, given how Blue usually slept with him and in the morning would decide to use Keith’s back as a scratching post. Blue had stopped doing it when Keith started wearing shirts though. 

“What feelings do you think red has?” Keith asked suddenly, looking down at Blue as she nibbled and licked at his index finger.

Lance pursed his lips, “You mean besides the usual?”

Keith hummed in acknowledgment, twirling his finger around Blue’s nose until she grabbed lazily at his finger again. He softly cooed at the feline when she squished her paws against her face before stretching out. Lance watched the two as he thought, blue eyes flickered back and forth between Keith’s finger and the man himself. He realized, even during all the times they’ve spoken at 3 AM for impromptu high-off-their-asses therapeutic sessions, they’ve never been next to each other while doing so. They were usually always together, either with a group of friends or alone in one of their apartments pigging out on cheap food while studying or arguing about what to watch on Netflix or binge playing Mario Kart 64 on his N64. 

This seemed surreal to Lance, finally being able to see Keith when the man was truly and completely relaxed. No worries, no frustration, no stress and anger blazing in those beautiful indigo eyes. No creases between his brows, no hunched shoulders or guarded posture, no stumbling over his words or staring intently at one object in the room to collect himself. No fire-truck red crop-top jacket that he thinks makes him look cool—

“Understanding.” The brunette spoke before his brain caught up with him. “Red… red lets you take all your frustration and anger out at the world. It eases that pain and anger from you and takes it within itself… probably why it’s so angry and broody most of the time. But, it gets it. And it wants to help, even if it doesn’t know how. Red just wants to see the world stop hurting the people it’s close to, just wants… peace, even if he—… _it_ doesn’t think it deserves it.”

Lance had pulled the pillow back under his chin and stared at his headboard as he spoke, brows furrowed as he thought. He felt Keith’s eyes on him, and he doesn’t know why – for once – he can’t look back at him. Maybe it was because he was tired, everything from the past day suddenly hitting him like a freight train and his brain demanding he sleep this instant, or… maybe it was because he was afraid to see what Keith looked like. Keith wasn’t 100% there when it came to over-the-top obvious things, the young man was getting better though, but Lance knew that there was no way Keith knew what he was talking about. The fact that Lance knew that he wasn’t completely talking about red made him suddenly self-conscious.

Yes, although the two men have been building their relationship, there were some topics that neither of them crossed. This… whatever, had never come up before. It was new territory – and one Lance might want to investigate more, but he’d have to be coherent enough when he did decide to do _this_ again.

“I… I agree.” Keith shifted on the bed. Lance caught his roommate clasp his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. Blue was now dozing off between their hips. “But… _blue_ deserves it too.”

 _Blue?_ Lance furrowed his brows once more and tilted his head to look at the sleeping kitten.

“I meant you, genius.” Keith mumbled, reading Lance’s thoughts. Lance flushed and stuffed his head back against the pillow.

 _Now who’s the oblivious one?_  

“I, uhm…” Keith chewed on his lip, tilting his head back to stare out through the window overhead. “For what it’s worth… I’m proud of you, Lance.”

Lance sighed, “Keith—” 

“Just… hear me out.” Keith swallowed thickly, removing a hand from behind his head to scratch at his neck. Lance blinked through blurry vision, forcing himself onto his elbows to rub his tired eyes. “You’re a family orientated guy, Lance. You’re always on the phone texting your older siblings or on the phone when your mom, telling goodnight stories to your younger siblings… You would have… you still would, maybe – do anything for your family. If your dad called right now and said your mom got in a car accident, you’d be rushing to New Mexico no matter if you received nasty looks and a few more bruises.”

Keith ran a hand down his face and sighed before turning his head towards Lance. “I’m proud of you. I can’t even begin to image what you’re going through, but you’re going through it. You’re still… _you_.”

_You’re still you…_

Was he?

He didn’t feel like himself anymore. He felt like there was still a piece of him missing – the piece that always tugged at his heart when he had to deny a video call or make up an excuse to not visit for the holidays. He felt off kilter now that that piece was stripped from him, possibly replaced by the feeling he gets whenever he hears his phone vibrate from across the room. That gut sinking feeling of complete, unadulterated _dread_.

_Who knows now? Who’s calling me sick names now? Who never wants to see me again now? Who is another brainwashed fucker that thinks just because I’ve realized who I was that they need to act like they never even knew me?_

The piece had been replaced but now weighed more than he could even bare to hold. 

But – now that he thinks about it – he hasn’t really been holding this piece alone. Hunk, Pidge and sometimes even Shay would come by the café or the apartment after a long day at school, bringing treats and unhealthy cake snacks as they binge watch some crappy show or movie on Netflix or Hulu. Shiro, Matt and Allura have been helping with school, making sure he didn’t fall behind because he was hyper focused on the whole family thing. They helped him with a schedule, called and texted between classes to check if he needed anything before their study session that night. Even Coran, Allura’s weirdly charming Uncle from New Zealand, sent him daily emails about everything and nothing. It was perfect and it was always what he needed. A picture of a baby kitten, picture of the cliffs and beaches on NZ, pictures of the large Santa Claus that was pulled atop a building across from that Skyscraper in Auckland he could never remember the name of – he just knew you could bungee jump off it (it was on his bucket list).

And then there was Keith, who continues to think he was just being a decent human being when really he was just being _Keith_. The man Lance had come to admire for his stand-offish attitude, the need to make sure his friends were happy and safe, the will to stand up for his friends and ask “who needs their asses kicked?” when he come across one of the group crying. Hell, the dude kicked Brad’s ass after he body slammed Allura at the Taco Bell down the street. Keith was more than just a decent human being. He was, without a doubt, one of the nicest people he’d ever met – no matter how rocky their relationship had started.

Lance couldn’t see him coming out of this in any good way without Keith by his side… and that scared him.

Lance froze, his breath catching in his throat, when he felt Keith’s bare fingers graze his forehead, pushing his hair from his face with concern. Lance, confused, furrowed his brows and turned to his friend. He then noticed how blurry everything looked and— _oh_.

He was crying. 

Great.

Lance blinked a few times, a few more tears falling in the process, and Keith easily brushed them away. Keith probably thought less of him now. Men weren’t supposed to be sissy’s—

 _No_ , Lance growled at himself, _stop_.

Keith had moved closer to Lance during this time, Blue having vacated the area between them to finally make use of the Castle Keith bought her some odd weeks ago. Hopefully she’ll use it from now on. 

Lance took a shaky breath, refusing himself the simple pleasure of Keith’s touch and, instead, shifting his head down against his pillow. Keith’s hand hung in the air between them before moving onto the small sliver of bed left between their bodies. Lance took a deep breath through his nose before letting it out. He twisted onto his side, facing Keith.

“I think… it’s only because I have friends like you that help keep me grounded.” Lance mumbled, meeting Keith’s gaze through the blurriness of his own. “If I was going through this alone – without you or Hunk or Pidge or Shiro or Allura – you, you get it; but I’m serious. Without you guys being… _you_ and being here for me, I’d… I’d be homeless right now. I wouldn’t be making a plan to complete college or have somewhere to crash— _mierda_ , I probably wouldn’t even be finishing up the semester.

“My parents made sure to take everything they could from me.” Lance wiped his cheek, “Hell, I’m positive the only reason my dad is still paying for my phone is to tell me how much of a disgrace I am to the family. Just a constant reminder that I’m nothing to them anymore. Just a… freak show or a magic act. ‘Watch as my… my _daughter_ makes her family hate her in ten seconds’.”

Lance hiccuped, screwing his eyes shut before pressing the heels of his palm against them. A sob wracked his body, “I… I di— didn’t ask… for _this_. They— they think it’s… it’s hard on _them_ but did… have they even thought how hard this is on _me_?! Ha— have they even thought about how much tu— turmoil _I’ve_ been going through?! H— how much self-hatred I’ve had?! I thought I was _disgusting_ for years— I didn’t know if I was… I didn’t know what… I didn’t— _I didn’t_ —” Lance grasped onto the front of Keith’s shirt, stuffing his face against his friend’s chest as he sobbed against it. Lance was too out of it to know where Keith’s hands were, he felt something in his hair and something on his shoulder, but he also felt something circling his back so who the hell know. All he knows is that he was suddenly engulfed in warmth and pushed tightly against Keith’s chest as the shorter man mumbled soft, caring words against his head. He couldn’t make anything out, too focused on trying to stop crying while also trying to get it all out so he’d never cry like this again. 

But, fuck… Why couldn’t his parents understand that he didn’t ask for this? Maybe… maybe if he went to church more, God would have been nicer? Maybe if he had prayed every night like his mother warned him to, he would be normal? Maybe if he didn’t kiss that one girl in middle school, he’d be who he was supposed to be.?

 _Maybe if, maybe if, maybe if_ — there were so many maybes— _too_ many maybes, but no definite maybes. Nothing that could help him understand, or guide him. 

_Nothing…_

“I di— didn’t ask for this, Keith…” Lance mumbled once his sobs died down. Keith’s fingers curled in his hair, blunt nails lightly scratching his scalp soothingly. His other hand rested on his lower back, thumb casting feathery circles against his covered spine, earning a mix between a hum and a hiccup from the man he was holding. Keith’s lips were pressed against the top of his head, still mumblings words of understanding against his hair.

“I didn’t…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That... got out of hand. But, yeah. I've been having a rough past couple of days (plus the upcoming hurricane Matthew is deciding to be a pain in my ass). But, with this chapter... it got very personal. I went to church a lot as a child before my depression set in when I was ten. The ending got away from me. A lot of my own thoughts came into this and... yeah. I'm sorry if this chapter offends anyone. I know everyone's faith is different, this is just my own personal stuff.


	4. Look at These Plus One Biceps!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance in a tank top, Keith in a ponytail, (Gay) Gym Chapter™, Lance is so BI and Keith is so GAY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like... I feel after the last (fucking angst filled) chapter, we all could use some more happier stuff, yeah? I got a few comments (and even some messages on tumblr) about the last chapter and just... wow. I'm sorry to every single person who ever had to question themselves like I've written, like I'm having Lance do, like I even do and still have. I am so, so sorry. And I'm so sorry if reading this has brought back any bad memories from the past. I just want you all to know that someone out there loves you. They love everything you doubt yourself in, love everything you hate in yourself, love everything about you -- all the good and all the bad. Sometimes it takes a while to find that person, but when you... Know that you deserve to be loved. Know that you aren't a freak of nature, an abomination, something to tell kids "not to grow up" as. You are beautiful and you are loved. You are all so strong and even if I don't know you personally I am so, so proud of you for making it this far. Keep going! You're going to make the world a beautiful place!

Lance didn’t know why he agreed to go to the gym with Keith at 5 AM on a Tuesday morning when he wouldn’t have to even have a conscious thought until 1 PM when he needed to get ready for class; and yet here he was, awake at 6 AM, standing at the entrance of the gym with his best friend and not entirely regretting waking up so he could workout with Keith. Keith always seemed a bit more upbeat after a good workout and Lance would give his left leg right about now to feel at least half as good as Keith post-workout.

Besides, the gym has a pool.

Lance was happy he was able to buy a few good sport bras before his dad cancelled his credit cards, even getting expedite shipping as a metaphorical “suck it”. Lance huffed with a frown at the thought of his father. This was supposed to be time to relax and let out his frustrations, not get emotional, tense and agitated. Lance was sure Keith had seen enough of his emotional side to last a lifetime, and if Lance had it his way Keith would never see him being un-Lance like ever again.

Keith walked ahead of him, opening the door for Lance – who mumbled a small ‘thank you’ – before following him inside. The gym wasn’t super big, but it was still a decent size. The pool was about 50 feet in length with 6 lanes, cut off from the main gym with windows. The entrance to the pool was through the bathroom/locker room. The gym equipment was top notch and in mint condition. The weights stood in the back of medium sized room, mirrors aligned on the back of the wall. There was a row of ten treadmills, three Stairmasters situated at the end of the line. A few feet behind the treadmills stood an array of Ellipticals – work out equipment Lance had used a few times in high school only to whine about later because, holy crow, using one of those for thirty minutes a day for a straight week nearly killed him. There were a few bikes sitting in front of the treadmills, they looked rarely used. There were other workout equipment sitting on the other side of the gym, equipment Lance couldn’t remember the names of, or some of the uses, but knew they helped with Leg and Arm Days™.

The gym didn’t even smell bad. It smelt citrusy and fresh – not something he’d expect from a gym. Big franchise gyms were different than the small family owned ones he was use to back in New Mexico.

It was nice. 

Keith walked up a desk a few feet to Lance’s left, pulling out a card from his wallet and informing the worker behind the desk of his guest. The worker swiped Keith’s card with little comment, chugging their coffee and waving them both away after handing Keith back his membership card. Keith brought Lance to the men’s locker room, heading over to one of the rows of lockers and opening one. Lance through his bag in, pulling out his goggles and tossed them over his head to let them hang from his neck, before heading towards the other exit that lead to the pool. There was a small sauna across from the showers before the pool exit.

He could smell the heavy scent of chlorine halfway through the locker room. He was amazed at how nostalgic the smell of the chemical made him. Memories of hot days in New Mexico, summer camp field trips and sneaking off in the middle of the night to break into the community pool. It was nothing like what the smell of the ocean made him feel, but it was enough to make him want to forget everything and just lose himself in the sensation of one of his favorite things to do.

Swim. 

If becoming an animator wasn’t his dream job, he would have done more with swimming. He was the best in middle and high school, fast and agile, always a few seconds ahead of the others. He hadn’t swum competitively since his last year in high school. He missed the thrill of it all but he didn’t miss the 5 AM training sessions or the hours-long drive to the competitions. Winning though… Winning was always the best feeling. At least until he saw whose name was on the trophy.

Lance pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the pool and its lack of inhabitants.

He was glad to see that no one else was there, probably because no one wanted to take a full-blown shower to get the heavy stench of chlorine off in the crappy gym showers before heading to work. He pulled off his tank top as he walked to the lane furthest from the exits, pulling off his shoes once he stood in front of the lane. He moved them off to the side a bit, not wanting either articles of cloth ware to get wet. He pulled his waterproof wireless earphones from his pocket, pressing down on the button over the right ear piece and waiting till it flashed blue before fishing out his phone from his pocket. He put each earphone in as both devices connected through Bluetooth, scrolling through his endless lists of playlists until he came upon the last playlist titled ‘Z’. He clicked shuffle.

 _Lionhearted_ by _Porter Robinson_ blasted through his earbuds immediately. He moved back over to his stuff, setting the phone down in his shoe before standing. Pulling his goggles on with thin lips and a determined expression, he moved back to the edge of the pool as Robinson started singing. 

He stretched his arms for only a few minutes, mumbling the lyrics under his breath while glaring across the pool. He wondered if he’d every swim with his family again, play Marco Polo with the twins, wrestling into the water with his older brother again, be lectured for not waiting 45 minutes after eating to get back into the water by his mother— 

He dived in without a second thought, leaving _those_ thoughts behind and letting the water wash away his anger and frustrations, his inner turmoil and hatred, his worries, his doubts, his stress. For the next hour he just swam back and forth, oblivious to his surroundings, focused solely on his strokes, breathing and the music.

He didn’t think about the text he still hasn’t read from his father; he didn’t think about the letters he’s been secretly sending to his mom the past two weeks, letting her know that he was okay and that he was sorry for causing her any pain, that that wasn’t his intention, he just wanted her to understand; he didn’t think about what his younger siblings thought of him; he didn’t think what his older siblings thought of him; he didn’t think about his cousins in Cuba or his Uncle in South Florida; didn’t think about the Facebook he hadn’t the courage to log into since coming out or what could possibly be written on his page, or the messages he was sure to have by now; he didn’t think about what he’d actually be doing right now if it hadn’t been for his friends, for Keith, helping him and taking him in when he floundered; he didn’t think what he’d be doing right now if he’d just agreed that it was a phase, agree to let his hair grow back out, agree to stop telling them that he was a man and that his name and pronouns were feminine; he didn’t think what his life would be like right now if he was a she. 

He didn’t think about any of that, just timing his kick off, breathe and letting the sweet, enthusiastic voice of Kesha lull his worries away.

And it seemed to have worked until Kesha’s voice started to fade as Lance kicked off the wall, replaced by the ringtone he had set for his family. He stopped swimming when he was only a few inches from the wall, reaching his hand out and grab onto the edge of the pool while the other flopped onto the matted ground in front of him. He took deep breathes, trying to catch his breath while also trying to control his anger, as he read the name on his phone screen over and over. He couldn’t tell if it was anger or relief he was feeling, but he didn’t like it. He cursed, reaching for his phone and rejecting the call. He quickly set his phone on airplane mode before they could call back and played the music once again, tossing it back into his shoe. He turned back towards his lane and pushed off the wall before he got a glimpse of his mullet-loving roommate, sweat slicked and glistening, face flushed from exertion, tank top being pulled off in slow motion and his _ponytail_ —

Lance choked on water.

_What the **fuck**?_

Lance stopped swimming and quickly grabbed onto the wall to his left, turning away from Keith as he made his way around the pool and nearly coughed up a lung. He forgot how much chlorine burned. He pulled out his left earbud as he saw Keith in his peripheral vision.

“You alright?”

Lance gave a few weaker coughs, unable to find his voice, but gave Keith a shaky thumbs up. Keith nodded to him, tossing the tank top he peeled off onto the ground next to Lance’s things. He turned his back to Lance, allowing the brunette to ogle Keith’s slightly tanned and toned back – seriously, _what the **F U C K**?_ – as he removed his sneakers and socks. Keith was left in only the black and red swim trunks he brought in his bag. Lance felt his face flushed as Keith turned back towards pool, oblivious to Lance’s inner screaming, moving to the lane next to his and sitting on the edge, dipping his legs into the warm water before slowly sinking in. He quickly dunked his head underwater, pushing his wet bangs out of his face as he smirked at Lance. And, honestly, Lance’s insides didn’t appreciate what Keith’s face – _and body_ – were doing to them.

 _No one_ looked that good after working out. Not even Ryan Reynolds. 

And then Keith, with his obnoxiously perfect teeth and shining indigo eyes and attractive mullet, challenges him to _a fucking race_.

“It’s okay if you’re not up to it, _Lance_.” Keith mocked, his smirk growing as Lance’s cheek continued to redden, kicking off of the wall and doing a slow backstroke. “I understand how _tiring_ this can be for someone who doesn’t _train often_.”

Lance might have actually felt a bit offended if Keith hadn’t known about his time on the swim team.

Lance smirked back, plugging his earbud back in as Keith neared the other end of the pool, “Alright, McMullet. You’re on.”

* * *

Lance stuffed half a McDonald’s hash brown down his throat, humming down at the grease the food left behind on his napkin. Keith sat across from him on the booth, stretching his legs out against the seat as he cradled a Sausage McMuffin in his hands. Keith’s eyes were rimmed red from the pool, Shiro having taken Keith’s goggles last week while they trained and still having yet to return them, and Lance could tell that they stung by the way they were glazed over (even with the eye drops Keith bought).

On their way to McDonald’s, Lance had pulled them into a Walgreens and had Keith buy some eye drops. Lance blamed himself for not realizing how strong the chlorine had been, they were probably the first two to use it since the staff put the chemical in the night prior, and with how long the two swam against each other he should have realized that – whether or not how recently the pool had had chlorine put in – that Keith’s eyed would start to become irritated.

Keith repeatedly told him that it wasn’t his fault, that he knew what the chlorine did to his eyes and that he had nothing to feel guilty for. All it did was stop him from apologizing out loud, not from sending an apologetic gaze towards his friend every so often. 

Before Lance had gotten a good look at his roommate’s eyes, the two had been having a lot of fun. Racing against his former ‘rival’ was exactly what Lance needed, and he assumed on some level Keith could tell. They hadn’t had it out like that for months – even _arguing_ about who won the last race for a solid five minutes as they changed in the locker room before Keith starting furiously rubbing his eyes.

At least now, with the eye drops, Keith was no longer rubbing and could focus his eyes.

Lance had asked about Keith’s workout as they headed towards McDonald's from Walgreens, holding onto both of their bags while also having Keith’s hand grasping his shoulder for guidance as they made their way to the fast-food restaurant. Keith took a while to comment, mumbling almost tiredly that it was one of the best workouts he’s had in awhile. Lance blushed at the comment, knowing that Keith meant their little swimming competition and not the hour-long full body workout Keith usually did. At that moment, he was glad Keith was more focused on where he was stepping then on Lance. He, in turn, asked how swimming was. Lance answered with a curt ‘fine’, the subject being dropped almost immediately but not before Keith’s fingers tightened on his shoulder, almost comforting. Keith then changed the subject, moving to school and the upcoming finals. Lance commented that Allura had warned him a while ago that she would be out of the country for the last two weeks of this semester, visiting her Uncle for one week then going to visit Nyma, her girlfriend, in Ireland before coming back with her. The subjects that she was going to help him on, Physics and Psychology, were not his other tutors strong suit. Pidge was now going to help with Physics while Shay, being a Psychology major, was going to help him.

Keith offered to help when neither Pidge nor Shay were available. Lance might take him up on that offer. Other than the usual stress and worry about finals, nothing new was going on at school with Lance. Well…

“Actually,” Lance slowed his walking as they came across a crosswalk, cars whizzing by them as they waited for their turn, “I impressed Professor Haggar, my 2D Animation instructor, with something I wasn’t even working on for the class. Apparently she hasn’t been impressed like that for years.” 

Keith looked at him by his side, nodding for him to continue. Lance went on to talk about the short animation he was creating about Blue, how she daydreams about becoming a blue lion robot with water-based powers in space and acting it out while she was alone in the apartment. He was only at twelve seconds with the animation, but he had the storyboard completed, the designs outlined but he was still debating on the shade of blue he wanted her armor to be and what other colors to add.

“I was thinking of adding a red diamond or something on her forehead.” He started as they stepped off the sidewalk. “Maybe glowing orange eyes and a white underbelly.”

“Wouldn’t a grey underbelly make more sense?” Keith asked, his hand slowly moving from Lance’s shoulder to his bare bicep.

“Grey?” Lance raised a brow, looking at Keith. “Why?”

“’Cause… armor is grey?” Keith stuck his head out, tilting it to the side as he looked at Lance with a raised brow.

Lance chuckled, Keith’s hand suddenly clasped in his own as they got back on the sidewalk, “Dude, Blue is imagining herself as a blue lion robot in space and the color of her underbelly is what needs to make sense?”

“I… see your point.” Keith straight up _pouted_ , standing straight once again and tilting his head away from Lance’s gaze. 

Lance rolled his eyes with a fond smile, “Well, if you’re gonna pout—”

“I am _not_ pouting.” Keith turned back to Lance with narrowed eyes.

Lance only smiled, letting go of Keith’s hand to grab the door of McDonald’s and hold it open for his pouting McMullet.

Yeah. Blue’s underbelly is gonna be grey. He’d have to show Keith Blue’s final concept art when he finished.

Lance looked up from his meal, resting his chin in his open palm with a small smile. Keith nibbled on the last of his McMuffin, face unusually soft and eyes closed as he savored the greasy food. Lance’s smile grew, throwing the last of his hash brown into his mouth as Keith let his head fall back against the wall with a small hum.

“I haven’t felt this energetic so early since I was seventeen.” Lance spoke after swallowing that last of his hash brown. Keith cracked an eye open, reaching for his iced hazelnut coffee and wiggling his tongue out until it connected with the straw. Lance flushed, averting his eyes to his own drink as he stuttered out, “W— we should do this… more often.”

Keith stopped mid-slurp of his iced hazelnut coffee, looking up through his long lashes at Lance like he’d grown a third head. Lance pouted out his bottom lip, grabbing his orange juice while pointing his index finger at his roommate.

“I’m serious, dude!” Lance forced himself to chuckle, adding a toothy grin to the mix before sipping at his orange juice. 

“Ya-huh,” Keith snorted with a roll of his eyes, setting his drink down and turning fully towards his friend, “I’ll remind you of your ‘seriousness’ when I come knocking on your door at five in the morning.” 

“Please, do.” Lance set his drink down before leaned back in his booth, resting his arms against the cold, uncovered surface of the top of the booth.

Keith hummed, taking another sip of his coffee while raising a brow slowly at the man sitting across from him; almost waiting for the inevitable excuse Lance would say to get out of working out.

 _Not this time, **Keith** ,_ Lance hissed with a smirk.

“Okay, okay, _Keith_ ; but seriously, _besides_ bein’ all energized for the upcoming day—” Lance quickly took a sip of his drink, setting it down before stretching his arms out and flexing his barely-existent muscles, “—look at these plus one biceps!” 

Lance turned from side to side, even leaning down to plant a sloppy kiss against his right bicep. That earned him a few giggles from the women behind the counter. Lance shoot them both a wink and his best flirting smile, even pulling out the big ol’ finger guns for good measure. Then he turned to Keith, whose face had grown as red as Ronald McDonald’s hair and whose eyes were trained on him, almost bewitched – and that totally was _not_ adorable, nu-huh, nope, no way –, and gave him the same treatment.

Wink, charming smile and finger guns. Well, _and_ an over-exaggerated kissy face. Just for Keith.

Keith nearly choked on his coffee, the blush covering his face stretching down to his neck and exposed shoulders and his _ears_ _were cherry red – holy shit_. Lance, frozen and with his own growing blush, was stuck to his seat, still in his ‘finger gun’ pose while his eyes slowly widened and his lips parted to suck in a shallow breath.

 _Fuck_ , Lance thought as Keith covered the bottom half of his face with his hand, his eyes tearing up while his shoulders shook and— wow… Keith’s laugh…

 _Fuck_ , Lance thought again, his own lips splitting into a large grin as he laughed along with Keith. He caught Keith’s eye – red, watery but glistening and bright and _breathtaking_ – before he shut them and bent down, cradling his head in his hands as his laugh continued to wrack his body.

_Fuck, fucking fuckity **fuck**. I’m screwed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you are, Lance. Yes. You. ARE. lmao. NOW, we're getting to A Plot(TM). Things get rough in all sorts of way here on out. There will be more tears, more Langst, more Klangst, and we find out more about Keith (Ko-GAY-ne lmao) and his past. On chapters where you think a tag should be added, just comment or send an ask or message to [my tumblr](http://vanguardpaladinkeith.tumblr.com/) and let me know! c:


	5. McFreakin’ Cliché as Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family can sometimes be assholes and that okay. Not all families are the same. But, you will always find better.
> 
> Shiro and Matt and c u T EE EE E E EEE EEE. Lance hangs out with the three successful people in the group. Lance talks to his bro and emotions are involved. Lance also starts working on his 2D Animation final when sleep deprived McMullet stumbles into the apartment after work and adds some... inspiration to his final (unknowing).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> breaking out google translate for this bitch –cracks knuckles-. Lemme know if any of the translations are wrong? I know google translate isn’t a reliable source but it’s my only option plus it’s 3 am (at least it was 3 am when i did the translation parts... it now 5 am). 3 am is Bad Decision Time(TM). Translations are at the end of the chapter. Enjoy! Also, lemme know if anything needs to be tagged?

When Lance got back from class later that day, Matt, Shiro and Allura were already at the apartment. The textbooks from his other classes sprawled out and opened on the kitchen table. Allura sat on one chair, a leg crossed over the other with Blue resting on her lap, scrolling through her phone with a small smile as she scratched between the Korat’s flickering ears. Shiro sat on the chair across from Allura, Matt situated on his lap as Shiro rested his chin on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Matt rapidly wrote down notes in the opened notebook on his left, quickly turned pages in his textbook and making small, frustrated noises as he scratched out whatever he wrote and replaced it with new words. Shiro chuckled, his prosthetic arm moving around his boyfriend's waist as murmured something loving against his nape. Matt huffed a silent laugh, a blushed blossoming under his glasses, as he nudging his elbow against Shiro’s chest, pushing the larger man away to finish his work. Shiro only held on tighter, a rare playful smirk gracing his lips as his other hand wound around Matt’s waist before he nuzzled his nose against Matt’s neck.

Lance decided for the sake of his pure, virgin eyes that he’d slam the door shut with a very loud, “Welcome home, Lance!”

Shiro only turned his head, offering a smile and a ‘hello’, before going back to his previous hiding spot. Lance huffed, heading towards the fridge and pulling out a Sprite while the other two at the kitchen table said their welcomes. Allura and Matt got down to business while Shiro relaxed.

“We’ll be doing chapter twenty-five today,” Allura started, twisting her body towards the table while being mindful of the kitten that laid on her, “ _Memory, Intelligence, and State of Mind_.”

“And we’ll be working on chapter twenty-three today— _Shiro_ — uh, which is— _eep_!” Matt nearly fell off of Shiro’s lap, his face a scandal shade of red as he turned and lightly smacked Shiro’s bicep. “ _Can’t you wait till we get home?!_ ” 

Shiro laughed, grabbing onto Matt’s wrist and kissing his palm. Matt cleared his throat, averting his eyes from everyone in the room as he spoke over his shoulder, “Chapter twenty-three, Gauss’ Law. I— I’m working on a small quiz to give you after. Work with Allura for now and then… we can… do… _ahm_ … yeah.” 

“ _Yeah_?” Lance raised a brow at the couple, watching as Matt successful sated Shiro – for the time being – with a peck on the corner of his lips. Matt turned back towards the textbook and notebook, ruffling his bangs to hide his extremely noticeable blush from the others. Shiro’s face mirrored his counterparts in color, quickly stuffing his face in the curve of his boyfriend’s neck, hiding in Matt’s hair. Lance could only assume that the lovestruck grin on Shiro’s face intensified by a thousand from Matt’s peck.

“Is it bad that I can’t even be mad at him?” Lance couldn’t help but smile, taking a seat next to Allura as he plopped his bag onto the ground between their chairs and popped open his Sprite can. Allura smiled back with her own nod, resting her chin on her knuckles as she flipped open his Psychology book. Shiro continued to hold Matt, who continued to do his work with a red face but a very, _very_ pleased smile.

\---

“So,” Allura started as she poked at her Shrimp Lo Mein, resting her elbow against the table as she looked at Lance out of the corner of her eye with an elegantly raised brow, “I heard you were working out.” 

Lance slurped at his Wanton Soup, raising a brow over the edge of the container at his friend.

She hummed, picking up a shrimp with an amused glint in her sparkling blue eyes, “In the _morning_.”

Lance swallowed the last of the broth, setting the container down while he moved his gaze between the three others at the table.  

“With _Keith_.” Allura turned her head to him with a wicked grin. 

He could feel his face heat up as his gaze fell back on Allura; it was from the heat of the soup and _only_ from the heat of the soup.

“You jealous, Allura?” Lance cleared his throat with a tilt his head to look at her, a shit eating grin forming on his face as he willed his blush to die. He leaned towards her, resting his arm on the back of her chair, “Gotta say, if I knew working out with Keith would get you jealous two years ago—”

“ _Lance_.” Shiro gave him a pointed look over his bottle of water. Matt snickered next to him, typing something on his phone before taking another bite of his eggroll. Lance rolled his eyes with a snort, straightening back into his own chair with a snort. 

“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands in mock-surrender before going back to his own meal with twitching lips.

“But did you enjoy working out?” Allura continued before slurping some Lo Mein into her mouth. Lance grunted, thinking back on the full hour of where all he could think about was how much of a fuck up he was. He picked his chopsticks back up, poking at his own container of food. The mood shifted quickly and he was certain everyone could tell by how all eyes were suddenly on him, even Matt whose previous attention was on his phone.

“Lance?” Allura set her utensils down, tilted her head into Lance’s line of sight. He sighed, letting his chopsticks go and leaning back against his chair. He arched his back against the chair and carded his hands through his hair, letting out a loud sigh before his hands moved to drag down his face as he bent forwards. 

“It was fine. I actually loved it, but… before Keith came to the pool…” Lance sighed and shook his head, “Near the end of my workout my older brother, Luís, called me.” Lance gave in, kicking his chair out and resting his elbows against his thighs. “I… I didn’t pick up. I couldn’t… I just wanted to forget and just… I don’t know.”

Lance’s shoulder sagged.

“I feel like… like I’m dead to my family, or they’re dead to me— we’re just dead to each other and seeing his name on my screen…” Lance huffed, shaking his head while running a hand through his head. “It’s stupid, I know.” 

“It… it isn’t.” Matt mumbled, setting his own fork down. Lance picked his head up, his hand resting on the back of his neck. He furrowed his brows in question, waiting for Matt to continue.

“My father once said: One of the hardest things you will ever have to do is grieve the loss of a person who is still alive.” Matt’s fingers lightly tapped the back of his phone, all eyes on him as he continued to speak. “When Pidge came out… she was a wreck. Our mother never wanted to see her again. She was already having a hard time dealing with the accident and then, with Pidge… Pidge acted like being thrown out was nothing to be sad or hurt about. It wasn’t the first time she’d been kicked out, either missing curfew or sneaking into somewhere she wasn’t meant to be…”

Matt’s hands folded under the table, shoulders relaxing as he continued speaking, “There was already a— a _rift_ between them after our father passed. Coming out, I guess, was the things that tore them completely in half.” Matt shrugged a shoulder, leaning closer to Shiro. “She moved out here with me and she seemed fine. She acted like nothing happened, still had a smile on her face, casually asked about mom, nothing to give away how she was _really_ feeling… She acted like she always has. Nothing to be suspicious about – at least as much as you can be suspicious about.

“But then there were those nights where I’d catch her watching home videos she’d downloaded to her laptop or pictures of our family from years ago… I’d see her battle with herself on whether or not to send a Christmas card or send a ‘Happy Birthday’ to our mother.” Matt looked over at Lance with a small, sad, understanding smile. “You’re going through a grieving process, Lance. Your dad sending you texts, your brother calling you – it messes with your ability to move on. It really does feel like they’re gone, but them continuously popping up on your phone isn’t helping you get over what they did.”

Lance nodded slowly, eyes shifting from Matt to his socked feet lightly toeing the tile under him.

It made sense. It made fucking _perfect_ sense. How many times has he switched from denial of the events to anger at himself and his family? He’d been in a constant state of depression and bargaining, ready to give up everything for things to go back to how they were before he moved out to California.

“I’m sorry if I said anything wrong,” Matt started, worrying his lip, but Lance cut him off before he could continue, “I just—”

“N— no, man, no. Don’t worry, you didn’t.” Lance picked his head up to offer the man a smile, even if it was a forced and very obviously faked. “Everything you said is right. Honestly, it makes… it makes _total_ sense.”

He laughed humorlessly as he ran another hand through his hair, “I just hate how fucking _right_ that sounded. ‘Cause I _do_ feel like I’m grieving, I just hadn’t been able to piece it together because I’m just… never able to process it. Once I finally feel, whatever it is settling, I get a text from my dad or an email from a family member and it just…”

“Reopens the wound.” Shiro mumbled, looking at Lance sympathetically while wrapping his arm around Matt’s waist. Matt shifted closer, resting the side of his head against Shiro’s shoulder.

Lance nodded with a sigh, “I get angry or depressed again; sometimes both. I want to scream, want to shout, want to… to _punch_ something but I also just want to curl up in bed and just… disappear and cry and forget about ever having a family.” 

He felt Allura reach out next to him, placing one hand on his thigh, rubbing her thumb against him soothingly, while the other went to his shoulder, holding onto him almost tightly, helping ground him in the emotions he suddenly felt like he was drowning in. 

“I— I’m angry and tired and too— so fucking _done_ with all this." He let his head fall forward again and ran his hands through his hair. No doubt his hair was sticking up every which way now. For once, he didn’t seem to care. He swallowed thickly, “I’d… I’d give anything for everything to return to the way they were three years ago… Where I was still blissfully unaware that there were more than female and male, that what I was feeling was just a lingering depression, that— that other people felt like this but just… knew how to deal with it. 

“Where I really was just oblivious to the world around me.” Lance sniffled, quickly standing and rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry… I…”

“You don’t need to apologize, Lance.” Allura stood, walking around the chair and pulling Lance into a hug. “You never need to apologize.”

It took everything in Lance not to lose himself in the comfort his friend offered him. He didn’t want anyone to see him like Keith had saw him during the night. Didn’t want anyone to think less of him by how often and easily he was able to cry. Men didn’t cry like this. He’d never seen his father or brother cry in front of him. But he did anyway, clutching onto Allura’s plaid over shirt like his life depended on it and almost wailing against her shoulder. She didn’t murmur soft words and heartfelt promises like Keith did, nor did she rub his back soothingly like Keith had, which was probably because of the sudden weight of both Shiro and Matt pressing down around them.

It was probably a good thing.

He didn’t cry for even one-fourth of the time he had the previous night, both too tired because of how much he did today and because he wasn’t ready for his three friends to see the full extent of his damage.

He didn’t know if they still saw him the same as they cleaned up their food and finished studying; didn’t know if they still saw him the same as they said their goodbyes; didn’t know if the next time they were all together if they would treat him like some fragile doll. And as much as he didn’t want them to see him any differently, he knew it was inevitable that one day they would, just like his family did. 

He’d just have to come and accept that there will be people in his life that will see him as the fragile doll he doesn’t think he is, that will step on eggshells around him and see him differently after he lets down his walls and offers them a front row seat to one of his many nightmares.

Change was inevitable, even if he would do anything to keep things from changing.

\---

His brother called a few more times during the week, left a voicemail after his last call that Lance was worried to listen to. He was sitting on the couch, Blue under his ankles that were kicked up on the armrest, alone after a long day of studying. Keith was at work or at school, Lance was too hyper focused on his phone to remember if Keith was wearing his weirdly flattering _Subway_ uniform or his weird red crop top jacket that he didn’t totally hate anymore. He continued to stare at his phone, seeing the 04:52 time length on the voicemail, and doing everything in his power not to panic.

No one’s left a voicemail before.

His father never ever graced him with his voice spewing such hate filled words since when he came out, just sent them all through text; and let Lance tell you that had just as much an effect on him as hearing it would. He _heard_ the words like it was his father reciting them into his ear in perfect clarity. It was painful how he could only remember what his father sounded like angry. He couldn’t remember the way his laugh sounded, or his voice when he’d sung his favorite songs in the car. He couldn’t remember him having a soft face unless he looked at a photograph. It sucks that the only face he could picture for his father was red, angry with a vein nearly popping out of his jugular. And his mother… he didn’t even want to remember her face. For someone who was so accepting of their child being bisexual (even though it was more “At least you’re still straight”), they couldn’t even fathom accepting a transgender son.

He didn’t want Luís to be like them. Maybe being in New York, working with such a diverse group of people, would make him see that not everything wasn’t as black and white as their parents made it. That there was a plethora of grey area’s that their parents never even touched, so much as even allowed them to see.

With that thought, Lance started the voicemail and pressed speaker before he could overthink this even more.

Lance wasn’t like his parents, and maybe – _just maybe_ – Luís wasn’t like them either.

“ _Just warning you that if I don’t get a call from you by tomorrow night, I **am** flying to L.A., renting a car, and driving two hours to the ass-end of nowhere to kick your scrawny ass._ ” Lance frowned and shut his eyes, already feeling the tears start to well. “ _I’ve been worried sick, dude! Mama and Papa **Facetimed** me! They never Facetime anyone unless someone’s died— and with how they looked, I— I really thought someone **did** …”_

Luís sucked in a sharp breath, _“Then… then they said your name and I just… Lauren, I… Wait— sorry, **shit**! I… I don’t know what your name is, actually. B— but you could have talked to me! You **should** have talked to me! I will never judge you for being you!_ ”

Lance actually laughed, rubbing at his eyes as Luís’ voicemail continued. “ _When they told me that you came out as transgender, I didn’t understand what the issue was? I’d think they’d be happy that you finally figured it out? Honestly, I was so… so fucking **worried** that something happened! Mama just kept shaking her head whenever dad glared at the ground. And, and something did happen. I… cannot believe papa did that to you!”_

There was a long pause, some shuffling of papers and clothing.

_“Well, I mean, I **can** … we both know his stance on… everything. Yeah. But I’m not like him or mom, and I love you. Doesn’t matter if you’re a dude or a dragon or an alien, you’re still the sibling I grew up with! You’re still my little asshole. Just because you cut your hair, or have a different name, go by he or them – I actually have no clue what you go by and we need to talk about that because I don’t want to embarrass myself further and make you more uncomfortable – but it doesn’t matter because you’re still the same person._

“ _I… I realize now I probably should have said this sooner but I’ve just been so caught up with work – and… I’m not going to lie to you, I didn’t know how to handle this. I actually talked to a few of my friends about how to handle this. They said if I kept waiting to call you that I’m only making it worse and… shit, I probably did, didn’t I?_

_“I mean… mama didn’t even tell me what papa did until last week… I didn’t even know you came out over a month ago until I called mama last week. And I thought that papa would just brood for a while and get over it? I thought by now you guys would be talking again and, yeah, that he’d have trouble **adjusting** but… I can’t believe even mama just…”_

Luís cleared his throat before sighing, _“Look, just know that I love you. You could be part alien and I’d still love you because **your family**. We’ve been through so much and something like this shouldn’t stop family from being family. Just, call me back, okay? Or at least send me a text to calm my nerves because I honestly don’t know where you are right now or if you’re even still alive. Or… or maybe this isn’t even your phone number anymore— **shit**. I didn’t think of that! I— if this isn’t my brother just, uh… I’m sorry? But if this is my brother, I… I don’t want to lose you, okay?”_

Lance choked down a sob.

“ _I love you. **Please** call me back._ ”

He did. After splashing water against his face and crying some more, he called Luís back. They talked for hours, about where he was staying, talking about Keith and his friends and Blue, talked about how college was going and if he was enjoying it, the messages his father had been sending, about how Luís’ job was going, about how Lance was feeling, about his name and pronouns. Lance answering all questions his brother had. They spoke about everything and nothing and it was the best thing ever; it was exactly what Lance needed.

Keith came home around midnight, looking worn out and tired. Luís asked to speak to Keith, who was hesitant but agreed nonetheless. Lance couldn’t even imagine what his friend and brother were talking about because he’d never seen Keith’s emotions change so quickly. Shy and hesitant to red faced and stammering to calm, collected and determined. Even an emotion Lance only sees when they’re around Shiro, actual amusement. He even snorted. It was kinda cute.

Lance didn’t hear much of the conversation though, too emotionally exhausted and overstimulated to do so much as stare at Keith as he walked around the kitchen as he spoke to Luís. He did pick up on one thing before the conversation ended.

“I wish I had been there, I wouldn’t have let it get that far. I, I don’t… I— _no_ , I’d never let that happen to him.” Keith even glanced over his shoulder at his roommate, face completely unreadable to Lance in his tired state. But he did notice how the tips of Keith’s ear reddened, the blush blossoming to his cheeks and even down his neck. He cleared his throat before answering, “I… Yeah, I— I guess you could say that. And I will… I promise.”

He went to bed that night with a really stupid grin on his face, and it was a _real one_. Something his face had been lacking the past couple of weeks.

\---

 **From Luís [11:49 PM]** _I like the name btw._ _Vry u._  
**From Luís [11:52 PM]** _…_  
**From Luís [11:52 PM]** _look lets not be strangers anymore. okay?_  
**From Luís [11:53 PM]** _te quiero lance_  
**From Luís [11:55 PM]** _ooh also !!!  
_**From Luís [11:55 PM]** _tell keith i said hi :)_

Lance rolled his eyes with a fond smile, shooting off a quick reply before setting his phone back down on the edge of the kitchen table. He turned to his laptop, which also sat close to the edge but past his 18x24 drawing pad, 9 drawing pencils, blue and red graphite pencils, 4 ballpoint gel pens, container of coloring pencils and kneaded erasers. He opened iTunes, going to his songs library and clicking any song before pressing shuffle and repeat all. His music played softly in the background as he went back to working on his 2D Animation final (at least the part he got to take home, which was just creating the storyboard).

Lance quickly sketched out the boxes, thankful that his lines were straight enough without a ruler. Hopefully Haggar won’t mark off points if a few of the lines were a little squiggly. He had 18 panels to draw something in. He had been brainstorming the past couple of days what to draw but came up empty handed every time he thought he had it. It was honestly maddening.

If only Haggar didn’t know about the project he was working on outside of class, he could have used that. 

“Okay, so,” Lance started, staring down at the nearly blank sheet, “ _idea’s_ …”

The music changed in the background, the song shifting from the upbeat melody of Madeon’s _Pop Culture_ to the energetic and blood pumping music of Marianas Trench _All to Myself_. 

“Maybe a… romance scene?” Lance mumbled absentmindedly as he grabbed his blue graphite pencil.

He _did_ need to work on interaction poses… 

He started sketching out a few poses. He thought about the anime and rom-com’s he watched in the middle of the night instead of sleeping on school nights and during the summer; thought about how most of them start off over-dramatic and predictable, but he didn’t want to do something as cliché or overdone like that. He didn’t want it to be like every other romance he’d come across. He wanted it to be special, wanted someone who saw it to stop and have their breath taken from them from the sheer intensity of it.

“Mcfreakin’ cliché as _fuck_.” Lance mumbled with a snort, biting the end of his pencil while he cracked his knuckles, flexed his fingers and rolled his wrists.

The next few hours went by smoothly. Lance pulling out a notebook to write down a few idea’s, sketch out little details next to his notes before moving back to the panel. The music changed in the background seamlessly, one second he was listening to the Witcher 3: Wild Hunt – Blood and Wine OST and the next he was listening to the last thirty seconds of Sleeping at Last’s _Saturn_. He hours blended together and he only knew what time it was when Keith stumbled into the apartment. Keith locked the door with a sigh, throwing his bag towards the couch – and missing it entirely – before making his way into the kitchen.

Lance took note of the bags under his eyes, the way his brows were knit together and how his lips were pressed together in a thin line.

“Sup, dude?” Lance spoke as Keith pulled open the fridge to grab one of his energy drinks. Keith shut the fridge with his foot as he cracked open the can, acknowledging Lance with a grunt before downing the drink. Keith was slowly leaning backwards as he drank and Lance, being the good friend he was, dashed into the kitchen to catch Keith before he fell backwards. The can clattered to the ground, thankfully empty, as Lance hauled Keith back to his feet. Keith’s arms settled over Lance’s around his waist, mumbling tiredly as he slumped back against Lance.

Lance froze, feeling Keith’s fingers glide against his exposed arms and the man mumbled something he couldn’t understand.

“당신은…당신은 부드러운.”

Was that… was that Korean? Was Keith speaking _Korean_?

“W— _what_?” Lance’s voice cracked as Keith sluggishly twisted around in his arms. Keith nuzzled against Lance’s neck, his arms falling to his side as he spoke muffled against the tall, lanky man. Lance held Keith tighter as he started to sag against him. Lance looked behind him, taking a few steps back until he was able to lean against the counter. 

“그리고 꽤.” 

Whatever Keith was saying was doing _something_ to his insides. He felt his insides twist and melt, he felt his heart stutter against his chest and— 

“ _정말_ 예쁜.” Keith breathed against his neck, his fingers tugging at Lance’s belt hoops. Lance’s hand quickly covered his mouth, hiding a mix between a squeak and a groan. One of Keith’s hand trailed up against Lance’s chest, gripping his shoulder as he pushed himself far enough away to look Lance in the eye and—

“Holy crow.” Lance sucked in a breath, eyes widening as he looked over Keith’s face. His eyes were lidded; pupils were blown wide enough that his indigo iris’ – that Lance marveled at more than he’d ever admit aloud – were nearly consumed by his pupils. A faint blushed dusted the bridge of his nose, fanning out against his cheeks and—

“ _Freckles_.” Lance whispered, nearly going cross-eyed as he looked at the pale freckles that dusted below Keith’s eyes and fading over the bridge of his nose. Keith’s lips twitched into a lazy smile, eyes struggling to stay open.

“ _Lance_ …” Lance had never heard Keith say his name like that before. “예쁜…창…” Nor had he ever had Keith’s thumb swiping against his lower lip, or had his forehead pressed against his own, or had to struggle to remember to breathe because _holy crow, holy crow, holy mcfreakin’ **crow**_ — 

The kiss is good enough to have Lance’s heart pounding hard enough against his chest that he was afraid Keith can feel it. It’s good enough that Lance lets himself get lost in it for a few minutes, kissing soft and slow and lazy. Hands tangled in hair, fingers in belt loops and clasped behind necks. The kiss (or kisses, if we’re getting technical) is one of— no, **_the_** best ones he’s ever had. He can’t compare it to much, only kissing a whooping three other people, but he never kissed like this before. He was used to rushing, used to being in uncomfortable positions, hiding between lockers and inside janitor closets. He’d never been able to take his time with this.

Keith’s lips were warm and soft, slightly chapped but not uncomfortable. His lips still had the lingering taste of Monster on them; Lance sucked and nibbled on Keith’s lower lip, trying to drain the flavor from them. That caused his roommate to moan against his lips, fingers pulling at his hair.

The kiss decelerated from there, turning back to the soft, laziness it started out as. Keith breathed against Lance lips – swollen and reddened from kissing – before moving his head back against Lance’s shoulder and slumping against him.

“Fuck.” Lance panted, nails digging into Keith’s waist. “Ke… Keith, I…” 

There was no response from him, but there was more weight slowly pressing against Lance. Lance furrowed his brows with a frown, tilting his head to try and get a look at his roommate, “Keith?” There was a soft murmur against his neck before Keith slumped entirely in Lance’s arms.

Lance tilted his head back with a huff and a frown, knowing Keith was now fast asleep in his arms. 

“Let’s… let’s get you to bed.” Lance maneuvered Keith in his arms, successfully picking Keith up as he made his way to the bed across the room. Once he set Keith down, mindful of the cat who was looking at him with a small knowing glint in her dark sapphire eyes, he pulled off his shoes and threw the covers over him. Lance spared a glance at Keith’s face, blushing at how Keith’s bottom lip was slightly swollen, thoroughly reddened and had a few indents from Lance’s teeth.

Lance quickly looked over at Blue. The kitten looked besides herself, lazily making her way over to Keith’s head while never taking her eyes off of Lance. Lance could see humor in her eyes as she settled against Keith’s disheveled mullet, tail lightly flickering against Keith’s flushed ear.

“We’ll… talk. Tomorrow.” Lance said to a sleeping Keith, quickly standing and moving to the kitchen table to shut his laptop and turn off all the lights. He made his way to the hallway, stopping before the entrance and looking back towards Keith.

All he could think of was Keith’s soft lips and a consistent loop of ‘what the hell’ running through his mind.

What the hell, indeed.

\---

_“Lance…” Keith purred, arm wrapping around his roommate’s waist, index finger twisting into a belt loop, as the other cupped his heated cheek. His thumb brushed against Lance’s lower lip, a small hum of appreciation rumbling from his throat as Lance’s lips parted, a low whine emanating from him._

_The kiss was warm and soft, and the way Keith watched Lance’s ocean blue eyes flutter closed – his fingers tilted his head up just so – made his heart stutter against his chest. Lance’s hands hesitated at his waist before gripping them tightly with a low moan when Keith nipped at him bottom lip. Lance parted from him, pressing his forehead against his as he looked at him through lidded eyes. Keith’s growing smirk was quickly wiped off his face as Lance surged forward. Noses brushed and teeth clanked; Lance suckled and nibbled on Keith’s lower lip thoroughly. Breathless moans fell from Keith, fisting a hand in Lance’s hair as he wedged a leg between the smaller man’s._

_“Fuck.” Lance panted against his lips, nails digging into the small patch of Keith’s flesh exposed between his jeans and shirt. “Ke… Keith, I—”_

The sound of his alarm blaring woke him with a start. His head pressed against Blue’s sleepy form that laid next to his head, unmoving from her position even with the sudden knocking against her side.

Keith cracked an eye open to look down at himself as he fumbled to pull his phone from his pocket, still dressed in his uniform from the night before. His alarm vibrated against his thigh, music bouncing off the darkened beige colored walls of his living room until he successfully shut off his alarm. He cursed softly, dimming the brightness on his phone as he rubbed his eyes with his free hand. He frowned down at his phone, reading the time with mild irritation. He didn’t want to work out today – _at all_ – so he sent Shiro a quick text, locking his phone and pulling the covers over his head as he dived back into dream world.

Dream world, where he was happily making out with Lance. Lance, whose lips were unsurprisingly soft against his annoyingly chapped ones, whose hands were so warm and whose fingers dug into his hips in the most exciting way, whose eyes were as bright as the ocean and sky and _his fucking voice_ —

Keith shot up in his bed, more awake with the thoughts his dream conjured than by his own alarm. The cat by his side dipped onto her back when Keith pressed his palm against his pillow, blinking curiously at the man. Keith choked on air. 

 _What the **fuck**_ —

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, this is still 100% slow burn. get ready for angst, feelings and Lance throwing his hands up in the 'i'm so fucking done' motion a lot my darlings.
> 
> te quiero = I love you  
> 당신은 부드러운 = You’re soft/You are soft  
> 그리고 꽤 = And pretty/beautiful  
> 정말 예쁜 = Really pretty/beautiful


	6. I Don’t Know Why I’m Feeling This Way (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance doesn't like energy drinks; didn’t like the way his hands shook and fingers twitched after just a couple sips or how his leg bounced involuntarily under him. Although energy drinks make him feel like he’s going into hyper drive, they do the job; even if this explicit energy drink brings back memories of slightly chapped lips, glossed-over indigo eyes and conflicting emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I edited the last chapter and added a bit more at the end and added a bit in the chapter. im sorry its taken to long to get this chapter out and im sorry its shorter than I wanted it to be… ive had a writers block like a bitch for the past couple of months… still kinda do tbh the first half is honestly… not great. The second half is a lot better imo. the next chapter is already halfway done so (hopefully) it'll be out next week. no promises because everything on my end is kinda... not okay right now but im trying. hope everyone had a good holiday season!! FYI: I did not reread this chapter so if their are any mistakes just lemme know? and im sorry if their are mistakes.

“You still haven’t talked to him?” Shiro questioned—almost stated—, pausing from his stretching next to Keith to give his younger brother his Concerned and Mildly Disappointed Dad Look™ as the younger man picked at his worn-down leather gloves in mild destress. Anxiety rippled through Keith’s body, agitation and paranoia along with it. He huffed, letting his hand fall to his side as the other ran through his fringe. He avoided eye contact with his brother, digging the sole of his shoe into the browning, worn grass below.

The siblings stood at the old track they use to race at when Keith was in High School. It wasn’t run down, and it wasn’t well kept either, but it was secluded, cut off from the small park that owned the land. Races used to be held here until the school could afford building their own. Now it was cracked cement, broken foundation and rusted metal. Only upside is that it was free and only a five-minute walk from Keith’s apartment. Downside was that he rarely used it because it had zero lighting and horrible cell service. But right now, it was exactly what he needed. Seclusion from the outside world.

The sun was rising, hidden behind large tree’s and scattering the sky with vibrant orange’s, tinted dark grey clouds were stretched and scattered, casting ever-changing shadows across the ground. The track was hidden behind an assortment of large, shady trees, thick and green. It was like Keith was in his own world here. He loved it. It was his place. The only other person who knew about this place was Shiro; though Keith was almost positive that Matt knew about this place too, just in case. Shiro has been more careful since his accident. 

“It’s been over a week.” Shiro continued and Keith could hear the frown in his voice, “You can’t keep avoiding this.”

Keith, after having a small crisis about having a _nearly_ explicit dream about his roommate and realizing it wasn’t a dream when he tasted Lance’s gingerbread chap stick on his lips when getting ready in the morning, had quickly went from zero to a million and threw himself into anything and everything that kept him away from his apartment _and Lance_ for the next eight days. There was only three more days until the term was over and Keith was at an utter loss of what to do.

Shiro already lectured him about lack of sleep and how he tended to do “stupid shit” whilst sleep deprived – _not_ that Lance was “stupid shit”, the exact opposite honestly. Lance was probably the best “stupid shit” he’s done while sleep deprived…

Keith shut his eyes with a cringe; _that_ didn’t sound any better… 

Point was, Keith wasn’t sure how to feel about this. He’s known for a while that he liked Lance more than a friend, even more than a crush. Allura told him once that how you know it’s a crush is when said crush gets a bad haircut and they’re no longer desirable (or something along those lines, it’s been a while since Keith heard her say it); but Lance had gotten _many_ ugly haircuts the last two years and it only made Keith’s crush turn into full blown pining.

Learning that his first kiss with Lance had been an impulsive action didn’t sit well with him, which was weird. If you looked up the word impulsive in the dictionary, 10/10 Keith Kogane’s picture would be right next to the definition. He was impulsive and blunt and brash but he wasn’t insensitive. He knew some of Lance’s history with romantic partners, knew that what Keith had done was not something Lance needed to add to the list of “Shitty things people have done to me without asking”.

If Keith had ever had the chance to kiss Lance for the first time, he would have asked. Would have made sure _Lance_ wanted this, wanted him. And he royally fucked that up. 

“And you’re only fucking it up more if you continue to ignore him.” There was a sudden pat on his left shoulder and Shiro was at his side with an understanding smile. “I know you’re scared, both for him and yourself. You’ve both been hurt, you’re both still healing, and that’s okay.”

Keith breathed deeply through his nose before exhaling loudly out of his mouth, shoulders sagging. “Emotions are exhausting.”

Shiro chuckled, “I know, but it’ll be worth it. Trust me.”

Keith nodded, letting his arms fall to his sides, “I have two finals today and work until ten… I’ll talk to him when I get home tonight.”

\---

Lance doesn’t like energy drinks; didn’t like the way his hands shook and fingers twitched after just a couple sips or how his leg bounced involuntarily under him. The world seemed to move faster around him while he lagged, it made his chest tighten and breath short—the binder didn’t help. He didn’t like that he drank them, but it was the only thing that helped him on nights spent cramming useless information into his brain. Coffee had the opposite affect than energy drinks. He got tired. He’d face plant into his textbook and snore to his heart’s content. Apple juice works better than coffee, but he’s still yawns and has trouble grasping what’s shown to him.

 “Skinner’s Box: Operant or Classic?”

Although energy drinks make him feel like he’s going into hyper drive, they do the job; even if this explicit energy drink brings back memories of slightly chapped lips, glossed-over indigo eyes and conflicting emotions. The man’s fingers involuntarily tightened around the aluminum can, eyes staring past his friend in front of him to Keith’s empty bed. His roommate barely was home since then, working on his own finals while picking up extra shifts as _Subway_. Since Lance moved in they needed more food, the electricity bill went up, Keith was also giving Lance money for anything personal he’d need to buy.

“— _nce_!”

He started, “Um, ah— uh— a box that… skins…?” 

 _That sounded wrong_ , Lance furrowed his brows.

Pidge sighed heavily, adjusting her glasses before running the same hand through her fringe, pulling her bangs from her face. Her hair was let down for once, the headache—that Lance no doubt pushed onto her with this study session—only grew worse with her hair pulled back.

“That wasn’t what I asked, Lance.”

Lance blinked, looking up from the Monster cradled between his hands. He paused, “ _Oh_.”

Pidge looked over her shoulder to Keith’s bare bed with pursed lips. “Why don’t we… take a break? Just for a bit.” She turned back to him with a beaming smile, shutting the textbook between them, “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Lance blinked, confused, as Pidge pushed the textbook to the side and pulled out her laptop and a worn-out lime green FIVE STAR folder from her bag. It’s torn and over packed, art projects and doodles from high school ago still stashed away between her college projects. She opened her laptop and typed in her password, pushing the folder towards Lance with her free hand.

“Open it.” She said, her smile somehow becoming brighter once Lance pulls the folder towards himself. He opened the folder cautiously, looking between Pidge’s unusually bright, giddy face to the heavy folder limbs. He was careful not to let any of the papers fallout from the sleeve. His eyes snatched onto the only paper not carefully tucked into a sleeve, the bold ink black colors caught his eye—a case number—before he saw the approval stamp and the name _Katie Holt_ near the middle of the page. The name was underlined, bold and spaced out between other words, but all he could see was the approval stamp and Pidge’s name.

“ _Dude_.” Lance bit his lip, bouncing in his chair as he continued reading over the rest of the paper. “You got approved—holy crow _, Pidge_!” Pidge laughed with him, her eyes sparkling behind her large glasses, her cheek lightly flushed with embarrassment. 

“You had your hearing today?” Lance looked up from the paper, excitement and relief flooding through his veins. He knew how long Pidge had been waiting for this. She’d wanted to get it done since she came out, but since she was still counted as a minor she wouldn’t have been able do it without her mom’s approval. Once Pidge had moved to California to live with her brother and Shiro, she had put it on her backburner and focused on getting through the last year of high school (while silently dealing with her own grief) before heading to the same college as Lance, Hunk and Keith. She didn’t even think about it again until Lance came out to their group. 

“Y— yeah.” Pidge cleared her throat, averting her eyes to the cat who suddenly jumped onto the table next to her, blinking down at the laptop with interest. “I didn’t want to bother everyone with it. It’s finals week for everyone, and Shiro and Matt are busy with work and Allura is out of the country so—”

“We’re celebrating!” Lance quickly stood, pressing his index finger against the table with a playful smirk. “This weekend, once Allura comes back, we are celebrating! This is a- _ma_ - ** _zing_** news—”

“What’s amazing news?” Keith stood at the door of the apartment, dressed in his _Subway_ uniform with a Vanilla Coke in hand. Lance makes eye contact with Keith and the world just kinda… _stops_ around them. Lance realizes that he hasn’t really _looked_ at Keith since they kissed.

Keith was already out of the apartment when Lance woke up for class in the early afternoon. And now they’d only stumble upon each other in passing, skipping their usual morning workout for one reason or another. They texted every so often, Keith letting Lance know he was taking another shift at work or staying late at school for one reason or another and Lance would just text Keith back with emoji’s because he honestly didn’t know what to say to him.

‘K’ felt too impersonal, ‘ok’ just sounded rude, ‘fine’ sounded petty, but the ‘a-okay’ emoji neutral and perfect.

Lance took Keith in with a slight frown, noticing the horrible make-up job to hide a bruise on his jaw and bags under his eyes, noticed the way he leaned most of his weight onto his left leg, noticed that his usual fingerless gloves were replaced with a new and longer pair, only the pads of his fingers exposed. Confusion and agitation simmered in his core.

_What the hell happened?_

Keith closed the door with his sneaker, clearing his throat and breaking the trance between the two before Pidge starting speaking, _mostly_ oblivious to Lance and Keith’s little moment. Keith started drinking as he made his way to the two.

“I had the hearing for my name change today.” Pidge smiled as Keith choked on his drink, “I’m legally Katie Holt now.”

Once Keith calmed down, he congratulated her, even agreed with Lance about having a celebration this weekend.

“It’ll be fun.” Keith nodded, looking up at the ceiling with a thoughtful smile. “We can hold the party here or we could go out?”

“I rather it just be us.” Pidge nodded, lightly petting Blue as she curled on the Canadian’s lap. “This semester took a lot out of me socially. I just want to hang out with you gays.”

Lance furrowed his brows, looking up from his psych textbook. “Did you seriously just…?”

“Yup.” Pidge smirked, popping the ‘p’. “But in all seriousness, it’ll be fun having everyone together again. We haven’t really gotten to hang out since we hauled all your crap this place… Wasn’t a very fun day, no offense.”

Lance hummed with a nod, “Agreeable.”

“Place is decided.” Pidge stated with a nod. “I demand a cake from the famous Hunk Bakery with a drawing of my face, on said cake, by Lance McFreakin’ McClain and Vietnamese food from that place on 12th Ave.”

Keith snickered next to Lance, finishing off the rest of his Vanilla Coke. Lance couldn’t help but laugh too. “That is very much doable, Pidgeon.”

“Good.” She smiled, placing her hair tie in her mouth as she started to bunch her hair to the side. She spoke around the hair tie, “Sorry to cut this short but it’s getting late, my dudes.” Once she had her hair up she pointed at Lance. “I’ll be here at eight am sharp with Matt, Shiro, Hunk and Shay to go over the last of your finals. We’re spending all day tomorrow studying, no ‘if’s, ‘and’s or ‘but’s.” 

“Aye, aye.” Lance saluted her with two fingers and a lazy grin as she packed her things into her bag, “I will have bagels, donuts and coffee ready for the cavalry.”

“Hazelnut Coffee and donuts with vanilla frosting and colorful sprinkles, my guy. I will accept no less.” Pidge threw the strap of her messenger bag over her head as she spoke, making sure her hair wasn’t caught under the strap before carefully moving Blue off her lap and onto the chair next to her. She placed her hands on her hips and nodded to both men. “Now, I am off into the heat. Lance, rest up. Keith…” She blew some hair from her face, “rest up too, you look like you’ve taken a beating.”

Keith’s grunt sounded slightly offended, but he nodded to her with a small ‘I know, yeah’ before turning his head away from her to clew on the bottle cap. Lance walked Pidge out, locking the door behind her before pressing his forehead against the cold wood surface. The only sound in the apartment was plastic shifting between Keith’s teeth and Lance’s thundering heart—or maybe that was just him that could hear it. The air was thick and unsettling, electric almost. He would rather an awkward feeling than one of the impending rejection he was going to face the second he turned around. 

You don’t kiss someone and avoid them for over a week without regretting your action.

Lance took a deep breath, about to speak, and—

“Hey, Lance.” Keith’s voice broke through the silence, the plastic out of his mouth and twirled back onto the bottle. “About last week… can we talk?”


	7. But I Bet Its Keith’s Fault (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have shitty classmates.” Was all Keith offered once his gloves were off, his nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths. Lance furrowed his brows in confusion, halting his rummaging through the First Aid kit to stare at Keith. Lance immediately knew who Keith was talking about – thankfully there weren’t a plethora of students who were homophobes, transphobes, racists, etc. at the college – but why did Keith know about them picking on Lance? They were in different majors, living on different sides of the town and—
> 
> “They were studying at Subway.” Keith supplied, a spark of anger flashing through his tired eyes. “And they were being assholes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm getting my groove for writing back x3  
> also, on a side note, i finally submitted my papers for a name change! just gotta wait a while for an actual court hearing date. may take up to 4 months but it's a start!

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Lance frowned, setting the First Aid kit and the package of make-up remover he never got rid of on the kitchen table as Keith carefully pulled off his gloves. Keith’s face was stoic, trying hard not to show how much pain he was in from the simple task of removing his gloves. Lance pulled the chair to the side next to Keith, busying himself with the kit as Keith continued to flinch with every inch his gloves were pulled off.

“You have shitty classmates.” Was all Keith offered once his gloves were off, his nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths. Lance furrowed his brows in confusion, halting his rummaging through the First Aid kit to stare at Keith. Lance immediately knew who Keith was talking about – thankfully there weren’t a plethora of students who were homophobes, transphobes, racists, etc. at the college – but why did Keith know about them picking on Lance? They were in different majors, living on different sides of the town and—

“They were studying at Subway.” Keith supplied, a spark of anger flashing through his tired eyes. “And they were being assholes.” 

“You…” Lance licked his lips, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, “You didn’t get in trouble… right?”

Keith shook his head, turning his gaze down from Lance to look at his damaged knuckles. Lance looked down at them too, lips parting to suck in a sharp breath. Keith’s knuckles were still raw and bleeding, hands littered with scrapes and cuts, on the inside of his right wrist a bruise was blooming in the shape of a large hand. The nail crescents were still there; it sent a shiver down Lance’s spine while making his blood boil. He carefully took Keith’s right hand – the more damaged one – and turned it over in his own palm. He was mindful of his open cuts and raw knuckles, skillfully maneuvering his roommates hand while trying to figure out exactly how badly he had injured himself. Some cuts went further up his arm, hidden under his long sleeves, and Lance couldn’t help but wonder what exactly caused this.

“Why?” Lance found himself questioning aloud, carefully pulling up Keith’s sleeves to look at the red patches of skin where nails clawed and grabbed at, the shallow cuts from rocks he fell against. Even with the black long sleeves, Lance could see the dark patches where blood soaked through. 

 _Keith_ …

“They were being assholes.” Keith repeated, almost annoyed; Lance could tell his annoyance wasn’t aimed at himself though. “They kept… they pissed me off.”

Lance stood, carefully pulling on Keith’s hand to follow, and made his way into the kitchen. He turned the sink on, pulling Keith’s hand under the faucet and ignore the hiss of protest that came from Keith. The water was freezing, even in the hot summer.

“You never cared what people said about you before.” Lance stated matter-of-factly, and they both knew it was true. Keith rarely listened to the outside world’s opinion of himself; the only opinions that seemed to matter to the Korean man were his family and his close friends, a whooping 9 people, ten if you include Blue.

(He has overheard his roommate on more than one occasion talking to Blue about this and that, asking if this shirt still fit or would tell the cat a story about some stupid shit that happened at work or school and asking if he was in the wrong for doing/thinking such-and-such.

It was endearing how Keith treated Blue exactly like a person, almost too much like a person. But Lance loved it.)

Lance spared a glance every so often towards the shorter man, taking in his unguarded stance and contemplative expression. Keith stared down at the bloody water, staring it down as it twirled down the drain as if it offended him. For all Lance knew, it probably had. He carefully toweled off Keith’s hand, ultimately ruining the dish towel but they were due for new ones anyways. Keith turned his body towards Lance, allowing him access to his left hand but also finally meeting his gaze.

“It… wasn’t about me.” Keith spoke softly, Lance pausing over his right hand. Keith had his full attention. “It was about you.”

* * *

They had been dead naming him, using the wrong pronouns and in turn – at least after Keith had politely asked them to stop since he was still working at the time – got their asses kicked once his shift was over because they didn’t. They stuck around throughout Keith’s shift and antagonized him, using Lance as a means of doing so.

Lance silently wished once again that he knew he was trans before college. No one would know him from before, there would be no one to misgender or dead name him. He passed well enough, was working hard on training his voice to be lower. He dressed in baggy clothes, always wore a jacket to keep his figure hidden, gotten his hair cut shorter than he would have liked (but at least hair grows). He made sure to always spray that cringe worthy body spray, use all the men’s specific products he could find. He felt the need to overcompensate even though that wasn’t the _him_ he felt like.

And even doing all that, this still happens.

“You should have just ignored them.” Lance spat angrily towards the sink as he cleaned the blood from it. Keith laid back on the couch, watching Lance scrub the sink like it’s never been cleaned before. His wounds were tended to; his face had been harshly scrubbed to remove the make-up that Shiro had caked onto his face before he ran his way home. Lance hadn’t meant to press so hard against his face, but while some bruises were not covered very well, others had been. Shiro was good at eye-linger but give the man foundation and you’re committing social suicide. Blue laid on Keith’s thighs, her tail lightly flicking every so often against his stomach, as she too watched the Cuban man scrub his angry away. “I always do.”

He could feel Keith’s gaze on his back as he continued the scrub the now sparking porcelain of the sink. The blood had long since vanished down the drain and how he was just doing it for the sake of letting out his energy. He was angry and frustrated at the world, even a bit at Keith. He shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have put himself in that position; and, yeah, the world shouldn’t be this shitty either but that’s _Lance’s_ problem, not _Keith’s_. Let people he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about deadname him and misgender him behind his back, let them come up to his face and tell him how disgusting of a human being he is and how he deserves to be dead. Those are his problems and _not fucking Keith’s_ —

“You shouldn’t.” Keith commented back quietly. 

“You shouldn’t have done what you did! I’m used to this, Keith! I get this shit every day, the second I wake up to the second I go to bed. I wake up to texts from my family telling me the exact same stuff I hear from those assholes at school. I go throughout the day hearing how someone I loved is telling me I should undergo conversion therapy to be “normal”! You think I care if a few people I barely know come up to me and tell me the same thing?” Lance threw the cleaned brush he was doing in the sink with a loud ‘ _clank_ ’, whirling his way around to glare at Keith as he screamed. “These are _my_ problems, not yours! Y— you could have been hurt, you _fucker_ , you could have been… They could have…” Angry tears pricked the corner of Lance’s eyes and he immediately turned back towards the sink, gripping the edge of the counter to keep himself grounded. His shoulders shook as he held onto his anger and tears, hands shaking on their grip around the porcelain. As he continued to shake, a warm body pressed against his back and two hands wrapped tightly in gauze made their way over his on the porcelain.

“I’m sorry.” Keith pressed his forehead to against the back of Lance’s head, breath ghosting over the back of his neck as he spoke. “I just wanted to protect you. I didn’t want you to deal with the stuff you’re dealing with at school too… I just…”

“I’m… I’m not some fragile doll, Keith.” Lance hiccuped. “I can handle a few slurs and girly names…”

“I know you can.” Keith sighed, slightly nuzzling against Lance. “But I can’t… not when they’re talking about you.”

“Keith…” 

“I’m sorry, Lance. I… did not think this through.” Keith pulled Lance’s fingers from around the porcelain and intertwined them with his own. “If you don’t feel safe heading to school alone anymore, I’ll come with you. I’ll make sure someone is with you at all times—”

“You’re such a jerk.” Lance hiccuped with a small smile, tilting his head to the side to look at Keith. Keith, after a moment of stunned confusion, matches Lance’s small smile before moving in to nuzzle against his neck. 

“Again, Lance, I’m so—”

“Stop apologizing.” Lance sighed, moving Keith’s arms to wrap around his waist. “Just hold me right now and walked me to class for the rest of my life, carry my art supplied and books while you’re at it.” 

“Want me to carry you too while I’m at it?” Keith joked, lips ghosting over Lance’s pulse point. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he made an uninterested sound while his face flushed.

“N—No! Wait… _maybe_ — are you even that strong?”

Keith hummed, removing his hands from Lance’s waist to in front of them both. “Once my hands heal up, why not give it a shot?”

He was already nodding before Keith finished speaking.

“It’s a date then.” Keith’s arms went back to their previous spots and his face moved back into the crook of Lance’s neck.

* * *

 

They didn’t end up speaking about “The Kiss” that night, but they were sure they were both on the same page.


	8. Update (FYI)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> update

I honestly thought I posted this like two months ago but I guess I didn't lmao

Anyways, I took a Creative Writing class about two semesters ago and when re-reading through the story... Well, it could just be a lot better. So, it is currently being rewritten. I am to get as far, or even further, then what I already have uploaded. I'm filling in plot holes, fixing things up to flow better and adding stuff in while taking things out. The story is going to flow much better, make more sense, and actually have a solid plot -- which was something this story was lacking... extremely.

Anyways !!! I just wanted to upload you beautiful people who are waiting/currently reading this story for the next chapter. I will either upload it into a new story and upload a chapter 9 to this with the link to the new one or just replace the chapters already uploaded on here... TBH, I'm probably going to be doing the first option. I want the first chapter to be up to the point this story got to (or at least 20k-30k, which it's already at 15k [unedited] and thats just with the newly added stuff and it's only up to half of what has already been uploaded).

So, yeah. That's the update! Thank you all for waiting patiently and being awesome! You'll see the new story within the next two months, give or take. I'm currently on summer break for another two weeks so I am working on it but I also have medical stuff to deal with as well so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ but it will be up before season 3 airs August 4th.

Seriously, though, thank you all again? for being awesome and patient? ya'll are great and amazing. Hope everyone is having a good summer!!

\--Vanny ([@vanguardpaladinkeith](http://vanguardpaladinkeith.tumblr.com/))


	9. Another Update

Okay my wonderful readers,

In less than 12 hours VLD Season 3 will air on Netflix. I know I said I'd have the new story up but... a lot has happened since I posted that last update. My air conditioner broke (and is still broken, it's been almost 6 weeks and I live in South Florida where all year 'round is summer... I s2g my insides are melting slowly) and since neither my mom or I have the money to fix the a/c completely without it possibly breaking again and costing us more money I'm back working part-time graveyard shifts while also attending college full time. My mom and I are also considering moving since the air conditioner isn't the only problem we're having with this house. I haven't been able to work on editing chapter 1 much -- if at all -- and I can't explain how sorry I am to you all. I'm currently dealing with doing my midterm projects -- which being at an art school can take a lot out of you since the professor's I have this quarter are very... thorough.

Just... a lot has been going on and whenever I do find myself with free time I just want to relax and not have to write or draw or **think**. Do ya'll know how hard it is to concentrate when you're constantly in 90+ degree weather? It's nearly impossible... I'm amazed I'm not failing all my classes.

Anyways, again, sorry guys. I honestly have no idea when the new story will be up. Until we either get the a/c fixed or move, everything is kinda up in the air rn but I can assure you that **the fic is not abandoned**. 

Hope ya'll enjoy season 3 -- I'm hoping that watching it will help me a bit with getting hyped up again with working on the story. 

\--Vanny

> **P.S.** ALSO !!! if ppl would stop messaging me and asking if the story is abandoned, that would be awesome. It only causes me more stress when thinking about the story. I've already abandoned stories where people kept telling me to update and asking when the next update was and if the story was abandoned and I can not express how stressful, annoying and draining it was to see all that. You guys are more than welcome to go to my tumblr and see if I'm alive, but please stop asking if the fic is abandoned.  I will let you know if I decide to not continue the fic but since this fic helps a lot with dealing with stress involving my transition, I can assure you that I won't be tossing it that easily.


	10. the new story is up!!!

Alright you beautiful, beautiful readers. The new story is up ---> **[in between two places](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12434265/chapters/28299549)** <\--- and i want to thank you all for being so patient with getting the new story up. ya'll rock. <333

\--Vanny  
[@vanguardpaladinkeith](http://vanguardpaladinkeith.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [vanguardpaladinkeith](http://vanguardpaladinkeith.tumblr.com/)


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